


Chainmail

by DrMcNastyPhD



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Family, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:41:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26906785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrMcNastyPhD/pseuds/DrMcNastyPhD
Summary: The party’s resident field medic Dagmar is a beautiful woman, though she doesn't act like it. Having left to follow her brother to war at the age of 16 and living on battlefields for the past decade and some change she considers herself more a soldier than woman. She is a very confident and assertive woman as far as most people know, but the only peculiarity about her is that no one has seen her outside of her armor.After certain events that have transpired in her past she has no desire to attract attention from either of the sexes, especially the opposite.Unfortunately for her the Mei shin family rarely takes no for an answer and jumps at the opportunity to play dress up with their new friend for tonight’s party. Especially when their doll is so pretty and pulls off almost everything they put on her.Chapter 1 is the dress electionChapter 2 is gonna be darker going back to Dagmar's past trauma. Contains attempted rape and some blood/violence.
Relationships: Non-Consensual Pairings
Kudos: 1





	1. The Fashion show

**Author's Note:**

> Last chance to not read it, make sure to read all the tags before starting. 
> 
> also feedback welcome.

Character pictures for reference: 

Dagmar: 

Lai Chan: 

Meng Wei: 

Dress 8: 

Dress 1: 

Dagmar stood in the center of the room glancing at all the faces staring back at her. This was the 8th dress Mei shin’s siblings had her try on and it was the shortest yet. One of her hands travels down to her mid thigh to try to pull the hem of it down, as if doing so would magically create more fabric to cover her bare skin. 

Her hand is slapped away by Meng Wei, the matriarch of the family, as the older woman studies Dagmar. “Stop that, you’ll stretch it.” she scolds. “May I have another outfit that I wouldn't need to stretch? Perhaps the first dress again.” Dagmar requests, almost pleading. 

“Nonsense you look wonderful darling, a little work on your hair and you’ll be perfect.” Comments the woman as she slaps another hand away from the skirt. “I’m just not comfortable wearing a dress this short. It's been years since I’ve worn one and even back then they were ankle length.” Beginning to develop red marks from all the hand slaps Dagmar ops to instead cross her arms in an attempt to cover her bosom which the dress shows too much of for her liking as well.

Having been a career soldier for over a decade Dagmar definitely was in shape, But unlike most career soldiers she lacked the scars to match. Most of her time in war had been in camps covered in someone else's blood trying to keep them alive than on an actual battlefield. The few times she had been in fights her trusty chainmail armor kept her skin from being scarred, though she has had her fair share of bruises and broken bones. 

Dagmar glances at her chainmail armor tossed haphazardly on her bed behind the wall of sisters and wishes she could just wear it to the party. She felt so exposed, so  _ naked  _ without the feel of the leather padding on her skin. The way it covered everything below the neck. The form fitting way it was tight enough to not leave any slack but flexible enough to allow the freedom of movement needed for battle and other physical activity. And most of all she missed the weight of the armor, especially on her shoulders. It was almost as if she was always being embraced by someone telling her everything was going to be ok. Reminded her of her brother.

Dagmar is jolted from her reminiscing by a rush of cool air on her back. Meng w]Wei had in a single motion undid the zipper to the dress, startling the young woman. “Fine if it bothers you so much we can go with the first dress, but I'm telling you, you have a good body. Be a shame not to show it off a bit.” Thankful for the concession of the woman, Dagmar quickly strips out of the dress and begins putting on the original dress she had on at the start of this impromptu fashion show. 

While she dressed several of the younger of the sisters showed their displeasure in the form of a collective “awwwww.” “You have such pretty legs Dagmar, why cover them up?” questioned Lai Chan, one of the younger sisters at 19. 

Being an amature fighter she also had a similar body to Dagmar but way more defined by her daily intensive training. She sat cross legged on the ground holding Shadani in her lap like a teddy bear. Shadani never having had a family before welcomed such kinship and was snuggled in close while calling out “She’s right, you’re pretty” 

“Thank you Shadani, but I like to wear bigger dresses to show off more of the colors.” Dagmar quickly said, as she slipped her arms into the sleeves of the dress and turned her back to Meng Wei for her to zip it up. She reveled in the feeling of not having a breeze on most of her lower half as the dress stopped below the knee but it still wasn't the same as the comfort she found in her chainmail.

“Don’t be so modest, show off a little more skin and I'm sure the boys will be all over you, if they're not focused on me that is” commented Lin shin, Mei Shin’s twin and from the stories Dagmar had been told by her seemingly evil counterpart. 

At that line Dagmar’s face goes slack. A cold sweat breaks out on her exposed skin and her breathing becomes shallow. “Are you OK dear?” Meng Wei places a concerned hand on her shoulder and gently tries to shake her out of her stupor. 

The shaking did not phase the younger woman, for she was not there mentally. Her brain flashed back to her first year in service with her brother, She followed him to war because she didn't want him to die but she also didn't want to kill and as such became a medic. (Read chapter 2 here for the rest of the flashback)

Mei shin being the only one who knew the story of the was the only one of the sisters who acted. While everyone showered Dagmar with queries about her reaction, Mei shin pushed past her sisters towards the bed, on the way shooting her twin a death glare and receiving a confused look back. She struggled to lift the chainmail as she had never had to lift anything heavier than her lute in her 36 years of life but quick to react Lai chan effortlessly takes the armor from her older sister’s hands. 

Together they push back through the crowd of sisters, the circle having closed much closer around the catatonic woman. “Give her some Room!” yelled Lai Chan, being the tallest person in the room it was easy for her voice to carry and the family immediately dispersed to the edges of the room to give Dagmar as much space as possible. 

As Lai Chan offered the mail to the woman, Dagmar all but snatched it from her hands and dropped to her knees clutching the armor. A minute passes as Dagmar slowly recovers from her episode. Her breathing returns to normal, the shaking stops and she regains her bearings. She awkwardly looked around the crowded room at the woman aged from 8 to 55, feeling somehow alone and embarrassed by her behavior. 

“...Sorry about that. I don’t exactly do well with men.” “You have nothing to apologize for. I don't know what you’ve been through but you don't have to share it if you don't want to. Just know that I'm here for you and I understand.” Meng Wei cooed as she hugged and pulled Dagmar in close, as if she were another one of her many daughters in the room. 

For the first time since she left home, Dagmar felt two things; a mother’s love, and comfort in the embrace of another. She also felt another, new feeling. The feeling of someone who truly understood what she had been through, empathy instead of the usual sympathy. 

And for the elder of the sisters, this was also new as this was the first time they had heard anything like this about their mother. 


	2. Embrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is flashing through Dagmar's head during her episode. heavy content warning.

The shaking did not phase the younger woman, for she was not there mentally. Her brain flashed back to her first year in service with her brother, She followed him to war because she didn't want him to die but she also didn't want to kill and as such became a medic. 

This was a day like any other in the camp. Men would go off to battle and get hurt then come back to the medic tent to get patched up by Grendal the medic or his apprentice, Dagmar. Her acceptance into the battalion was well received though Grendal, that old cranky dwarf, would often grumble on how he had many more cases of minor injuries being reported now that she worked in the tent. He also often had to chase off her older brother Frederick, who came around even when not injured to dote on his sister. 

Back then Dagmar was 17 and hadn't started wearing her armor yet, still sticking to her ankle length skirts. She mostly just helped carry materials and assisted listening exactly to Grendal’s instructions during important procedures but he had started letting her handle minor stuff on her own as she learned. 

On that day Grendal had left into a nearby town and she had been left to man the tent alone. She was nervous and excited as it was the first time she had this much responsibility. Grendal wouldn't admit it out loud but she had been a quick learner and mumbled something about “At least you’re better than nothing while I'm gone” before he left and handed her a handmade medic apron with her name on it. 

Dagmar waited in her tent excitedly. Feeling slightly guilty for almost wanting people to get hurt but she also wanted to show everyone she was a medic in her own right. After treating several people for minor cuts and bruises and setting one leg she got another visitor in the late afternoon. 

She had seen him a few times but never interacted. Apparently he was a good warrior and rarely got scratched let alone hurt. Dagmar greeted him cheerily, still riding the high of her first day alone was going so well. “Hi!, what can I help you with?”

The man takes a few tentative looks around the tent, as if checking for intruders. “I uh, got a bit of a stomach ache, got anything for that?” Dagmar hopped up “Oh I know this one!” and ran over to a cabinet to start rummaging for some herbs. 

That's when he struck. Within seconds he had gotten a cloth around her neck and had begun choking her. While she struggled to breathe he pulled her close and breathed into her ear “you and me are gonna have some fun girl, scream and I'll kill you. Tell anyone and I’ll kill you. Do anything I don't say you can do and I’ll kill you. Nod if you understand.”

Lack of oxygen mixed with intense fear forced her to accept these terms and he eased up on the cloth, not enough for her to breathe comfortably but enough that if she strained she could get just enough air to stave off the darkness at the edges of her vision. 

She almost wished she would pass out with what she felt once she regained enough air to worry about other things. She felt him behind her. She smelled his musk filling her nostrils, she felt his bigger frame as his chest was on her back and, worst of all she felt his hand exploring her body. Touching, groping, pinching and squeezing whatever was in its reach. She hated it. She wanted it to be over. She wanted to scream, but she didn't want to die.

Then she heard gurgling and a shower of warm liquid started to coat her back and shoulder. The pressure of the cloth was relieved and in that instant she scrambled away from her attacker and looked back. 

She saw her brother, Frederick, standing over the man in his chainmail armor and a bloody dagger. She saw the man writhing on the ground blood pooling quickly on the ground from his neck wound. 

Her brother quickly stepped over the dying man and locked her in an iron embrace. This one felt similar physically to the other but had the opposite connotations. The smell that filled her nose was the familiar smell of her older brother. The hands on her back were that of someone she trusted. The iron grip in which he held her felt safe. Instead of trying to keep her in it felt as if it were keeping everything else out.   
“It's OK. It's OK. I’m here Mar Mar. Big brother is here. He can’t hurt you anymore. I’ll never let anyone hurt you” 

3 weeks later he didn't return from a battle and was presumed dead. That day her brother's friends delivered what little belongings he had to the medical tent for her to take. In those belongings was the set of chainmail he wore the day he saved her. She had it remodeled to fit her and from that day on never went a single day for 11 years without putting it on. 

Whenever she felt the weight of the armor on her shoulders she felt like she was back in that embrace. Safe and protected in her brother’s arms. 


End file.
